Stars of Fortune
Page 23
She wished she knew how to make some traditional Greek meal, but failing that, she could do a pasta dish she often made herself at home, as it was quick and easy, and it appeared she had everything she needed at hand.
Logically she’d quadruple what she normally did, but that didn’t take into account two of the four were men, and Riley ate like a starving wolf.
“So just make a lot,” Sasha told herself. And it if didn’t work, well, someone else could be in charge of the kitchen.
She stepped outside, just breathed in, wondered if she’d be allowed to cut some flowers for her room, for the house. She recognized lemon trees as the yellow fruit basked in the sun, and the dusky leaves of the olive, the orange trees. But others were beyond her, including the cactus with large flat leaves and gorgeous blooms.
She took a moment to sketch one, then wandered on, past the vegetable garden, the coop where chickens clucked and pecked in their little fenced yard. Past shrubs of rosemary, toward the pool where she saw Riley and Sawyer in what appeared to be an animated conversation as they sat facing each other on white padded chaise lounges.
The big white dog sprawled under the shade of Riley’s chair and slept.
Sawyer wore cutoffs and a golden tan, and Riley a red tank-style bathing suit. Still talking, Riley waved at her, gestured to come on out.
“We’re debating Khan.”
“Genghis Khan?”
“No. Khan Noonien Singh.”
“I don’t know who that was—is.”
“ Star Trek .”
“Oh. I saw the movie.”
“The, as in singular? Which one?” Riley demanded.
“I’m not sure. It was on cable.”
On a sigh, Riley patted the space beside her. “Girl needs an education.”
“Want a beer?” Sawyer gestured toward a wide stone table Sasha saw held a barbecue pit. “There’s a fridge back there. We stocked it from the kitchen.”
“No, I’m fine. It’s wonderful out here, but it feels too cool yet for swimming.”
“Not for hardy souls, right, Sawyer? Plus it’s solar heated.” She angled her head to look at the sketch. “Prickly pear.”
“Is that what it is?”
“Yeah. It should fruit in a couple months.”
“What do they taste like?”
“Mmm. Watermelon, sort of.”
Sasha let out a quick laugh. “Watermelon on a cactus. As strange as mythical stars. I saw a dolphin—I think—in the water. In what Bran said they call Canal d’Amour.”
“Going for a swim to look for your one true love?” With a quick smirk, Riley lifted her beer.
“I don’t think so, but I may paint it.”
“Might be fun to try it—the swim,” Sawyer explained. “We mate for life in my family, so maybe I’d run into her.”
“Huh. Same with mine. They mate for life. Which is why,” Riley said definitely, “I wouldn’t risk the swim. I find my mate, that’s it. No more playing around.”
She rose, stretched. “What about you, Sash? The field or the goalposts?”
“What?”
“Playing the field or the touchdown with love?” Sawyer interpreted.
“I . . .” She saw Bran, in black trunks and white unbuttoned shirt, crossing the lawn. Hearts did skip beats, she thought. It wasn’t just a cliché. “I don’t really think about it.”
“Everybody thinks about it,” Riley claimed. “I’m going back in.” She dove off the side, surfaced sleek as a seal, then rolled to float. “Hey, Irish, water’s good. Take advantage. We’ll be hunting and scouting and digging before much longer.”
“You’re right about that.”
“And not much time for a beer by the pool.” Sawyer set his down. “I’m on pool maintenance, unless you want it.”
“It’s all yours.” As Sawyer jumped in with Riley, Bran shrugged out of his shirt. “Can’t swim?”
“Of course I can swim.”
“Good.”
He plucked her right up.
Her utterly shocked “Don’t!” had Apollo bellying out to dance and bark.
“Do!” Riley shouted as Sasha tried to wiggle free. “Dare you.”
“Oh, well then, she dared me.”
“This isn’t funny. Just—”
Whatever she’d started to say ended on a scream as he got a running start and jumped in with her.
She surfaced, sputtered.
“It’s pretty funny,” Sawyer said.
With no choice, Sasha tread water. “It’s cold !”
“You’re just not used to it yet.” To help her along with that, Bran went under, and pulled her with him.
“Better?” he asked when she came up again.
“What are you, twelve?”
“The man who loses the boy is a sad and serious man.”
“Irish philosophy?” Sasha responded to it by shoving the heel of her hand through the water, and sending it into his face.
Then she just sank down because it was pretty nice after all.
* * *
Her pasta dish turned out well, if she did say so herself. She might not want to be responsible for planning and cooking meals routinely, but there was some satisfaction in seeing the enormous amount she’d made vanish down to a small container of leftovers.
They didn’t talk of the stars until Riley broke out a bottle of limoncello.
Logically she’d quadruple what she normally did, but that didn’t take into account two of the four were men, and Riley ate like a starving wolf.
“So just make a lot,” Sasha told herself. And it if didn’t work, well, someone else could be in charge of the kitchen.
She stepped outside, just breathed in, wondered if she’d be allowed to cut some flowers for her room, for the house. She recognized lemon trees as the yellow fruit basked in the sun, and the dusky leaves of the olive, the orange trees. But others were beyond her, including the cactus with large flat leaves and gorgeous blooms.
She took a moment to sketch one, then wandered on, past the vegetable garden, the coop where chickens clucked and pecked in their little fenced yard. Past shrubs of rosemary, toward the pool where she saw Riley and Sawyer in what appeared to be an animated conversation as they sat facing each other on white padded chaise lounges.
The big white dog sprawled under the shade of Riley’s chair and slept.
Sawyer wore cutoffs and a golden tan, and Riley a red tank-style bathing suit. Still talking, Riley waved at her, gestured to come on out.
“We’re debating Khan.”
“Genghis Khan?”
“No. Khan Noonien Singh.”
“I don’t know who that was—is.”
“ Star Trek .”
“Oh. I saw the movie.”
“The, as in singular? Which one?” Riley demanded.
“I’m not sure. It was on cable.”
On a sigh, Riley patted the space beside her. “Girl needs an education.”
“Want a beer?” Sawyer gestured toward a wide stone table Sasha saw held a barbecue pit. “There’s a fridge back there. We stocked it from the kitchen.”
“No, I’m fine. It’s wonderful out here, but it feels too cool yet for swimming.”
“Not for hardy souls, right, Sawyer? Plus it’s solar heated.” She angled her head to look at the sketch. “Prickly pear.”
“Is that what it is?”
“Yeah. It should fruit in a couple months.”
“What do they taste like?”
“Mmm. Watermelon, sort of.”
Sasha let out a quick laugh. “Watermelon on a cactus. As strange as mythical stars. I saw a dolphin—I think—in the water. In what Bran said they call Canal d’Amour.”
“Going for a swim to look for your one true love?” With a quick smirk, Riley lifted her beer.
“I don’t think so, but I may paint it.”
“Might be fun to try it—the swim,” Sawyer explained. “We mate for life in my family, so maybe I’d run into her.”
“Huh. Same with mine. They mate for life. Which is why,” Riley said definitely, “I wouldn’t risk the swim. I find my mate, that’s it. No more playing around.”
She rose, stretched. “What about you, Sash? The field or the goalposts?”
“What?”
“Playing the field or the touchdown with love?” Sawyer interpreted.
“I . . .” She saw Bran, in black trunks and white unbuttoned shirt, crossing the lawn. Hearts did skip beats, she thought. It wasn’t just a cliché. “I don’t really think about it.”
“Everybody thinks about it,” Riley claimed. “I’m going back in.” She dove off the side, surfaced sleek as a seal, then rolled to float. “Hey, Irish, water’s good. Take advantage. We’ll be hunting and scouting and digging before much longer.”
“You’re right about that.”
“And not much time for a beer by the pool.” Sawyer set his down. “I’m on pool maintenance, unless you want it.”
“It’s all yours.” As Sawyer jumped in with Riley, Bran shrugged out of his shirt. “Can’t swim?”
“Of course I can swim.”
“Good.”
He plucked her right up.
Her utterly shocked “Don’t!” had Apollo bellying out to dance and bark.
“Do!” Riley shouted as Sasha tried to wiggle free. “Dare you.”
“Oh, well then, she dared me.”
“This isn’t funny. Just—”
Whatever she’d started to say ended on a scream as he got a running start and jumped in with her.
She surfaced, sputtered.
“It’s pretty funny,” Sawyer said.
With no choice, Sasha tread water. “It’s cold !”
“You’re just not used to it yet.” To help her along with that, Bran went under, and pulled her with him.
“Better?” he asked when she came up again.
“What are you, twelve?”
“The man who loses the boy is a sad and serious man.”
“Irish philosophy?” Sasha responded to it by shoving the heel of her hand through the water, and sending it into his face.
Then she just sank down because it was pretty nice after all.
* * *
Her pasta dish turned out well, if she did say so herself. She might not want to be responsible for planning and cooking meals routinely, but there was some satisfaction in seeing the enormous amount she’d made vanish down to a small container of leftovers.
They didn’t talk of the stars until Riley broke out a bottle of limoncello.
